Bobbi with an I
by Christina Conlon
Summary: I'm a girl, but no one knows that. Farm life just didn't suit me, so I fled. To be a Newsie. But if they found out I'm not a boy . . . And how stupid does Leo think I am, anyways? If I want freedom, I'm not going to The Bronx. I'm going to Brooklyn!
1. Escape from Freedom

**Now, I know that I haven't updated The Future Is Calling in a while, and now I'm starting a new fan fic, but I got this idea after hearing the song 'Bobbi with an I', so here it is! Not sure how long it'll be, but hopefully I'll have enough inspiration to finish it. =)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or 'Bobbi with an I'. I do own Bobbi, Cedric, Abram, Franklin, and Mr. and Mrs. Dennon.**

**- - -**

**Bobbi with an I**

**An original fan fic by Christina Conlon**

**Chapter 1 – Escape from Freedom**

I wasn't supposed to be who I am. I was supposed to be a boy. Everyone thought I was going to be a boy, just like the two that came before me. I was supposed to be a Bobby. But I wasn't. My mother had sewn countess little button-up shirts, trousers, cabbie hats, vests, and suspenders for me. But I wasn't a little boy. I was Bobbi. With an I.

I was a girl.

My parents put the I instead of a Y because they thought it seemed more 'feminine'. I don't get the point, though. I mean, it's still pronounced the same. And it wasn't going to change my gender or anything. My mom was going to get rid of all those nice clothes she made for me. But you want to know what? I wore them. I never once wore a skirt. Ever. I helped my dad and my two older brothers, Cedric, who was seventeen, and Abram, who was fifteen, on the farm. I went to school with my brothers. And I taught my little brother, Franklin, everything there was to know about being a boy. I had the defiant attitude of a boy. The only thing that kept me from being a real boy was the fact that I wasn't one. My mom died when I was five years old, giving birth to Franklin, so I never really had a big female influence in my life. That didn't stop me from missing her.

At school, I was a boy. At home, I was a boy. Everywhere, I was a boy. And I've never loved in my entire life. I've never kissed anyone, and I'm proud of it. Cedric, at the present, is engaged to be married in a few months. Abram has wooed more girls than he had hairs on his head, and even Franklin has a cute little crush on a girl at school. But me? I didn't give that kind of love to anyone. My kiss, my love, all of those things, was locked in a tiny box deep inside my heart. And I had hidden the key so that no one could ever open that box. No one would ever be able to steal my most prized possessions. And I would never, ever tell anyone where that key was hidden. Because I had vowed to never give away willingly my precious treasures. And for thirteen years, that vow was kept.

It was the night of my thirteenth birthday. The half-eaten, homemade cake had been put away, and now everyone was sound asleep. Cedric, seventeen, was probably dreaming about his soon-to-be wedding. Abram, fifteen, dreams about who-knows-what. Franklin, age eight, dreams about the new puppy litter that will be born any day in the barn. Everyone was asleep.

Except for me.

I was fully dressed, in a button-up off-white shirt, my sleeves rolled up to my elbows, patched-up brown trousers, black suspenders, and a plaid cabbie hat that hid my long, wavy golden-brown hair. Before my mother had died, she had each of her children promise her something. I remember the night as clearly as though it were yesterday.

"_Cedric, give that girl… Sylvia… all your heart…"_

"_I promise, Mama."_

"_Abram… one day father will be too old to work on the farm… take over for him…"_

"_Of course, Mama."_

"_And little Bobbi…"_

"_Yes, Mama?"_

"_Never…cut… you're… hair…"_

"…_Wait, WHAT?!"_

"_It is so beautiful… please, for me…"_

"_But Mama, I'm not a-"_

"_Swear it! Swear you'll never cut your hair!"_

"_I… I swear it, Mama."_

"…_Good. Goodbye, my little ones… Mama loves you…"_

I sighed and shook my head. This was no time be get lost in thought. I leapt up from where I was crouched on the floor of my bedroom and stealthily crept over to the window. An old wooden board creaked beneath my feet, instantly freezing me in place. But no one came barging in. No one demanded to know what I was doing. All was silent. I let out the breath I had been holding and continued onwards.

I got to the window and slid it open, placing one foot on the sill and heaving myself up. Now I was crouching, balancing nimbly on the thin window sill, one hand grasping the window itself for support and the other firmly holding the worn brown sack slung over my shoulder, which inside held a change of clothes and a loaf of bread. That was all I dared to take. I didn't want to rob my family of everything they had.

I craned my neck backwards to steal a final glance at my bedroom. It wasn't much to look at, with an old metal bed in one corner, and a dresser with an oil lamp on top, but still, I'd miss it, and everyone else. But I couldn't stay here any longer. Farm life just didn't suit me. It was just so… simple. Plain. Quaint. However you wished to look at it, it just wasn't for me. I needed excitement, fresh air. Yes, all these things were provided on our farm, but it was just… different. But I knew a place that could give me what I wanted. And I was going there.

Tonight.

I focused my gaze, pulling it from the shadows of thought, and swept it around the room. My eyes landed on something, leaning up against the wall just beneath my feet. My eyes widened. My mother's key necklace.

"_Bobbi! Bobbi honey, where are you?"_

"_I'm right here, Mama."_

"_Oh, good. Do you know what today is, Bobbi?"_

"_Of course I do, Mama! It's my fifth birthday!"_

"_Yes, and the baby is due to arrive any day. Do you like the idea of a lil' sibling, Bobbi?"_

"_Yeah!"_

"_Wonderful! But, before the baby comes, I would like to… give you this."_

"_Oh, Mama, it's beautiful!"_

"_Just like you, Bobbi dear."_

"_Nuh-uh! I'm a boy! Boy's can't be beautiful!"_

"_Well, you are the most beautiful boy I've ever seen. Here, let me put this around your neck. …Oh, you look wonderful! Oh, Bobbi, please take off your hat. I want to see your hair."_

"_No way! You're already making me wear this stupid necklace!"_

"_Bobbi, it is not stupid. It was my grandmother's, and now it is yours."_

"…_It's heavy."_

"_I know, one day it will fit your neck perfectly. Please, take good care of it. Give it to the man that you love. Let it be the key to your heart."_

"_But Mama, I'm a boy-"_

"_You are a girl, Bobbi. One day, you will realize that."_

"_I already know, Mama… just…"_

"_That's enough. I'm sure Cedric and Abram need your help herding in the cows. Looks like we may have rain. Run along, now."_

"_Yes, Mama. …And, Mama?"_

"_Yes, Bobbi dear?"_

"_Mama, thank… thank you. For the necklace. It is… nice."_

"_I'm glad you think so, dear."_

I felt my eyes water. _How could I almost leave that behind? _I wondered, leaning over to reach for it. Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the hallway. I felt panic flare up inside of me. I hurriedly reached for the necklace, and felt my fingers brush the fine gold chain that the key was threaded on. But it wasn't close enough to grab hold of. Then I felt it.

Rain.

It was soft at first; lightly pattering against the roof, but soon it was a forceful downpour, the wind causing it to drive at an angle. Large, fat drops wetted the window sill and my tiny feet. I shifted, desperately trying to grasp the necklace between my fingertips. Suddenly, my feet weren't underneath me anymore. With a startled yelp I felt myself fall feet-first off the sill. For a fleeting moment, I dangled helpless in the air, my feet churning emptiness. I heard my pack fall to the ground with a _thump_. Then I fell, but was cut off abruptly as my stomach crashed against the edge of the window sill. My fingers curled around the other edge, and my feet scrabbled against the brick wall of the house as I tried in vain to heave myself up. I heard the door open a crack. Rain was pounding in my face, against my back. I felt my bare feet being rubbed raw by the roughness of the brick. I had to let myself drop, or else whoever was at the door would catch me, and I'd never get this chance again. But I couldn't leave Mama's necklace, I just couldn't. I gritted my teeth and grunted, pulling myself halfway over the sill. I gave a little wriggle and soon half of me was dangling out the window, while the rest was leaning over from the inside. I blinked rain from my eyes, and then searched the ground for the necklace. I soon located it, and with a triumphant grin scooped it up. I balled my fist around it, and then looked up as a sudden burst of light entered my room. My head snapped up to see Abram holding a small candle, standing at the door in his nightwear, gaping at me. My face fell into one of shock as our eyes met. He leaned forward slightly, as though he wanted to come to me. I set my jaw and shot him a look that read, '_I dare you. Take one step.'_

He hesitated, sweeping a confused gaze over my fully-dressed, soaked form.

I shifted slightly, my stomach becoming sore from its current position.

He took a step forward.

A smirk twitched at my lips as I let myself drop.

I heard him yell my name as I fell silently, my feet skimming the bricks painfully. I landed on the soggy ground with a dull _thud_. I groaned and rubbed my pained tailbone. I heard another shout from above. My eyes snapped up to my bedroom window, where I saw Abram leaning out, yelling down at me. I couldn't understand him over the pounding rain, but I knew that it wouldn't be long before the rest of the family woke up.

As though cued by that very thought, a light flickered on from my father's room, and another one from the room Cedric and Abram shared. I scrambled up, snatched my sack with one hand, and took off down the road. The shouts faded into the distance. I didn't dare look back.

Not even once.

My feet slid in the mud from the packed dirt road, and I could hardly see where I was going. But there was only one path leading from our farm into town, so I couldn't possibly get lost. Thankfully, the rain began to lighten up a bit and soon it was just a light, steady shower.

I felt my lunges begin to burn, so I slowed down to a steady trot. I didn't dare walk, in fear that, if they even came after me, my brothers and father would catch up.

Finally, I came to a fork in the road. I narrowed my eyes at the figure standing between the two splitting pathways. I warily walked towards it, and then smiled faintly in relief when I saw who it was.

"Took you long enough," my good friend from school, Leo, teased. I let out a weak laugh, still out of breath from my run, and smacked him good-naturedly across the arm.

"It would've taken you extra long as well if you had to fall out of a window, battle rain and flee from your family." I retorted. He just laughed.

But his face soon became serious, and he looked me in the eye with such an uncharacteristic stare that I found myself fidgeting nervously. And I never fidget – not under someone's gaze, anyways.

"Do I have something on my face?" I joked weakly, but he didn't even twitch.

"Bobbi, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked finally. I nodded, and adjusted my cap. Couldn't let my hair fall out in front of another human being now, could I?

"It's going to be dangerous…" he continued, but I cut him off.

"I know what it's going to be like, Leo." I said abruptly. "But I've always wanted this… this freedom."

"You already have freedom," he protested, "on the farm!"

"Not the kind of freedom I want," I replied hotly, glaring at him. "I don't want to have to go to school, to have to wake up to chores every morning. I want to do things my own way. And… farm life doesn't let me do that. It's hard to explain, Leo, but you've got to trust me. This is what I want to do, I'm sure of it. And don't try to change my mind."

Leo cursed under his breath, mumbling, "I tried." He shifted from one foot to the next, leaving a small bit of silence between. Then he looked up at me and said in a small voice, "Good luck, Bobbi."

I smiled and clapped him on the back. "You too, Leo. Take good care of those sisters of yours. If anything happens to them, I will personally hunt you down."

Leo chuckled, knowing full well that I was only half joking. Then he shoved his hand into his pocket, and extracted four shiny, silver quarters. He held them out to me in the palm of his hand.

"Here, to get you started," he said, a warm smile now gracing his lips. I gasped slightly.

"Leo that must be a whole week's earnings…"

"Don't worry about it, okay?" he extended his gift farther. "Go on, take it. It's not going to bite you."

I rolled my eyes and carefully picked the coins from his hand, dropping them into my own pocket. I felt my mother's necklace slip from my hands and into the pocket along with the coins. _I had completely forgotten about that…_ I vaguely noticed that the rain had now stopped, but the path was still muddy and the grass still heavy with the fallen droplets.

"Be real careful, Bobbi, okay?" Leo inquired, leaning forward slightly. "All of those boys will be so much bigger than you…"

I glanced down at my flat chest and nonexistent waist and almost sighed aloud. Of course, that's not what he meant, but still…

_You should be thankful you haven't physically matured yet, _a small voice inside my head whispered, _if you were, you'd be forced to become a girl…_

I shook my head to drive the voice away. Annoying little pest…

"Bobbi?"

My thoughts snapped back to Leo and I quickly looked up at him.

"Yeah?"

"You're still going to The Bronx, right?" he asked. I spared a quick look up at the two road signs. One was pointing to the left path and read 'The Bronx'. The other, pointing to the right, read 'Brooklyn'. I returned my look to Leo and grinned.

"Of course I am," I said. "Our plan hasn't changed a bit."

Leo let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness…" he murmured. "Brooklyn is so dangerous, you wouldn't survive a day."

Defiance flared up inside of me.

"Just because I'm small…!" I began, but Leo slapped a hand over my mouth, muffling my angry shout.

"Hush up, you idiot!" he hissed, glaring at me. "Someone will hear you!"

I shot him a 'if looks could kill' glare, but fell silent. He removed the hand from my mouth and took a step back.

"Well, I better not keep you any longer," he said, motioning to the left path that led to The Bronx. "If you expect to get their in time to rest at least a little, you better go now."

I nodded, and with a last, lingering glance at the path that led to the farm, I spun on my heel and tromped down the path. I heard Leo call a quick goodbye, and I waved over my shoulder in return, but didn't look back. I was afraid that if I did, I would sprint all the way back home and never get this chance again.

_No going back now…_

I continued along that path for a short while, but then glanced over my shoulder. Both Leo and the fork in the road had disappeared over the horizon line. An impish grin spread across my face and I veered off to the side, towards that path that led to Brooklyn.

_How stupid does Leo think I am? _I thought with a smirk. _If I want freedom, there's no way I'm going to The Bronx._

_I'm going to Brooklyn._

**- - -**

**So… whadda ya think? Just so you know, this DOES tie in with my The Future Is Calling story, and all of the stories in that series, but I won't tell you any more than that. You'll see how it ties in… later…**

**Virtual Cookies for all who review!**

**Secret Ingredient: Pixels! =3**

**~ Christina 'Amaryllis' Conlon**


	2. Wow, The Brooklyn Bridge is Really High

**Yay, Chapter 2! Sorry for the mega-huge delay of lameness, I was very busy as of late. ^__^; However, prepare to have new chapters for both Bobbi with an I ****and**** The Future Is Calling! To be honest, I'm more excited about writing the sequel for TFIC, but that's beside the point. Okay, on with the show! =3**

**[Insert catchy & funny disclaimer here]**

**- - -**

**Bobbi with an I**

**An original Fan Fic by Christina Conlon**

**Chapter 2 – Wow, The Brooklyn Bridge is Really, Really High**

I reached Brooklyn just as the sun was stretching its bright little fingertips over the hills. It glared in my eyes, and soon sweat was collecting under my cap. I longed to take it off, but couldn't. If only I could cut my hair…

_Don't even think about that! _I warned myself mentally, shaking my head. _I promised Mama…_

Just the thought of her added a little spring to my step. She would want me to be happy; me, her only girl, even though I never once helped bake or clean. Yes, she, at least, would be willing to let me go, to let me grab my own dream by the horns.

The minute I entered Brooklyn, I realized that it was nothing like my quiet, lazy little farm. Instead of rolling hills covering the landscape, there were buildings as far as the eye could see. Instead wildflowers popping up everywhere, people seemed to be as popular as the dandelions. And to replace the cows dotting the fields, there were the exact people I was looking for, at each street corner, a thick pile of paper under one arm while they flailed the other in an attempt to get someone to buy.

The Newsies.

I grinned and turned my step to a sprint, my feet lightly tapping the cobblestone paths as I made my way towards one. He was fairly small, with a sweet, innocent look on his face, pale skin, and white-blond hair that fell just past his shoulders. This looked a little strange to me, since most boys kept their hair short, but it looked neat nonetheless. I weaved my way through the crowd and over to him. He was a good foot smaller than me, and I'm about five foot. He looked up at me with wide, shining yellow eyes that reminded me of miniature suns. He shook a stray piece of hair from his face and held a newspaper up to my face.

"Buy a pape, good sir?" he asked, his eyes pleading me innocently. I laughed, and had half a mind to give him one of my quarters, but pushed the thought away.

"Sorry kid," I smiled apologetically, "I don't have the money." I attempted to walk past him, but he stepped in my path.

"I can see the money in your pockets," he said. His eyes had now fallen from their unnatural hugeness and into their normal position, which was slightly narrowed. His eyes now gleamed dangerously, like a cat about to pounce. I felt a little, nervous flame flicker in the depths of my belly.

"Yes, but I need it." I replied, once again trying to step around him. His foot shot out and kicked just under my feet, causing me to fall face-first into the dusty earth.

"Ow!" I moaned, rolling over to glare up at him. I rose to my feet, towering over the tiny Newsie angrily. I saw his hand swiftly move to a little sack positioned at his hip, and I realized that it was sheathing a small dagger. I knocked his hand away from the sack, giving him a rough shove. "That _hurt_, you stupid little weasel!" I shouted, brushing some dirt of my shirt for emphasis.

It was as though my words were magic. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground again, a much larger being pinning me down, a dagger raised high above me, its glint threatening to plunge into my neck at any time. Winded and unable to see his face due to the glaring sun, I struggled vainly to free myself, but to no avail. I was trapped.

Finally, I was able to regain my breath, and the clouds rolled over the sun for a few seconds. I could now see his face, and was rather awestruck.

His eyes, like the younger Newsie's, were narrowed and glinting yellow. They were blazing with fury, which sent a shiver of fear down my spine. His hair was long and lush, flowing over his broad shoulders like a strawberry-blond waterfall, creating curtain around us. He had an airy white shirt, puffy black trousers with red cuffs, and a crimson sash as a belt. A small, golden hoop earring hung from one ear, and I noticed that several of his fingers were adorned with diamond, ruby, and emerald rings.

_Where did he get all this junk? _I couldn't help but wonder, despite my current predicament.

So there I lay, under a strange young man, not too much older than me, who was silently threatening to kill me. I glanced around; no one seemed willing to help, and no one stared, either. They just hurried on by, like it was a daily ritual or something.

I turned my gaze back to the boy, and saw the smaller one peering over his shoulder in smug curiosity. I shot him a killer glare, but then felt a cold blade press against my neck. The boy pinning me still didn't talk, but his message was clear.

_Shut up or die._

Since he wasn't talking, I wasn't sure what to do escape-wise. Glancing around, I saw that my pack was still in the tight grasp of my fist. I couldn't help but smirk with victory as I slammed my pack down hard on his head. But the smell of victory was soon replaced by the choking smell of blood.

My blood.

I let out a gurgling cry of pain. I vaguely felt the boy scrambling up from where we lay, his dagger dripping with my blood. I faintly felt myself flailing desperately as I felt the endless flow of red trickle down my neck. I saw them both standing there, watching me in silence. Watching me die. They didn't do anything but stand there. Honestly, the least they could do is let me die quickly. But no, the stupid Brooklynites have to watch their victims die a slow, painful death.

_The beasts._

Well, they wouldn't get their way. With what little strength I had left, I scrambled up and began stumbling down the street, my pack still in tow, and my free hand clutching my neck in a weak attempt to save myself. I think the two gave chase, but I couldn't be sure. The world was beginning to spin around me, a flurry of buildings and people whizzing past me as I flew by. Despite my loss of blood and almost loss of life, I still had my speed. I didn't bother to dodge people; either they got out of the way or got plowed over. Most chose option A, thankfully, but I think I did knock over a little kid trying to sell me a newspaper.

Finally, the crowds began to thin out, and I realized that I was coming close to water. I blinked a few times to remove the fuzziness, and saw a great bridge stretching out before me.

_The Brooklyn Bridge, _I thought weakly. _Once I cross over, I'll be safe from stupid Brooklyn Newsies and I can maybe get some help… maybe…_

Relief giving me new strength, I picked up my pace; speeding across the Bridge at a pace that only lightening would dare challenge. However, soon my strength gave out, and I was forced to stop halfway across. I leaned against the railing for support, breathing heavily as blood continued to drip from my neck. I felt a drop of my life leave me as each droplet of blood fell. I felt my eyesight begin to be taken over by darkness, but I shook my head to send it away.

Suddenly, someone was in front of me, the color strawberry-blond swirled around me, and a great force grabbed my ankles and flipped me over the Brooklyn Bridge. I couldn't scream, I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything. I heard only the faint whirring sound of the wind whipping past my ears. I tasted only the blood, which flew up into the air from my neck and then fell back into my mouth. I saw only the Brooklyn Bridge, growing smaller and smaller, and the two figures leaning over it to look at me. And what was that… a third person? I may never know. For it was just then that I hit the water, with such a great force that I felt my soul being ripped out of me as I met death. My last thoughts before I left this world forever were simple.

_Wow, that Bridge is really, really high._

**- - -**

**Is it a theme that I kill all my main characters or what? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! This chapter is probably one of the most violent in the whole story, so if you felt weird reading it don't worry, because so much blood and gore and all that good junk won't come around every day. =) Please review if you have the time! I will read and possibly review all of my reviewer's stories (because I'm just nice like that =3)! Anyways, thank you for being patient while I got this done! New chapter for TFIC and BWAI coming soon, I promise!**

**~ Christina Conlon =3**

**P.S, Spot will come in the next chapter, don't you worry! ;D**


	3. Straight from the Sewers

**Hi y'all! Long time no see! Sorry for the delay. New Chapter coming for The Future is Calling, I PROMISE! TT___TT I just need to remember what I was going to do. ^__^;**

**Disclaimer: I only own stuff you don't recognize. Bobbi, Luce, Luciel, etc.**

**- - -**

**Bobbi With an I**

**An original Fan Fiction by Christina Conlon**

**Chapter 3 – Straight from the Sewers**

"Is this where it hurts, Spot?"

"Ah, yeah. Right dere."

"What have I told you about trying to juggle knives? Honestly, Spot, you're smarter than this."

"Jus' cure da wound, wouldja?"

Luciel chuckled from behind me. "Alright, O Mighty King."

"Of Brooklyn," I reminded her, "do't fahgit da Brooklyn paht."

She didn't reply, but merely began to rub the antidote on the large cut that ran down my back. I let out a small hiss of pain, but otherwise remained silent.

"You're lucky the knife only just skimmed your back. But I'll have extra work this evening, mending your shirt and all."

"Sahrry Toots."

"Don't you worry about it, Spot. That's what I'm here for. There, I'm finished now. I'll go get you a clean shirt." She quietly lifted herself from the bed and exited the room, leaving her small bag of medical supplies behind. Once I was sure she was gone, I threw myself at the bag, shuffling through the items inside until I found what I was looking for.

I unscrewed the lid of the small liquid medicine bottle, and sloshing the orange fluid around lovingly. I wasn't exactly sure what I was addicted to, but it tasted good so I really didn't care. I lifted the bottle to my lips, closing my eyes as I inhaled its delicious scent.

"Patrick Paul Conlon!"

I let out a yelp of surprise, the bottle flying from my grip, splashing its contents all over me before falling to the wooden floor and rolling under my bed.

"Wat da crap, woman?" I snapped, whipping my head around angrily to face Luciel, who stood at the bedroom entrance, her balled up fists placed firmly on her hips, a deep scowl etched across her face and my fresh plaid shirt thrown over her shoulder.

"Don't you dare use that tone with me, Patrick Conlon! I've already warned you about that stuff; it's dangerous. Even _I _don't know what it is."

"Den why do ya keeps it?" I grumbled, leaping to my feet and wringing out my soaked cabbie hat. "And do't calls me Patrick. It's Spot."

"I know what it does; I keep it for emergencies, _Patrick Conlon._" She leaned forward as she said my 'name', her eyes narrowing.

"It's Spot!" I yowled, stamping my foot furiously. I saw her eyes flare up dangerously, but a moment later they returned to their cool, freshwater blue. She took a deep breath, smoothing out her skirts and pulling my shirt from her shoulder.

"Honestly, you're such a child. Now stop drinking that. You're gunna get yourself killed. Here's your shirt."

I caught the plaid shirt as she tossed it to me. I smirked over at her tall, thin stature, long blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, sweet, pale skin.

"Tanks, Toots… foah da shoit an' fixen' up, I mean. An' everyting else ya does, too."

Luciel smiled warmly in return, all traces of fury gone. "You're very welcome, Spot. It's what I'm here for, right?"

"Among uddah tings," I said casually, patting her gently on the shoulder as I made my way out of the room, dressing as I went.

"Spot, don't even go there, please."

I waved my hand over my shoulder in acknowledgment of her request, and, leaving the first few buttons on my shirt undone, sauntered down the stairs. Just as I made it to the bottom, the front door of the Lodging House flew open, and stalking in from it were Luce and Skulls. Luce's insanely long, strawberry-blond hair whipped in the strong winds that blew off from the coast, and Skulls kept shaking his bangs out of his face. Much to my displeasure, Luce's dagger was dripping with fresh, warm blood. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"'Ey, 'ey, Luce; wat has I tell'd you abouts drippin' blood on da Lodgin' House cahpet?" Luce looked up at me silently, deep in his eyes the dying embers of fury.

"You'se get in a fight again?" I asked, Luce nodding mutely.

"Well, awlrighty den, fine by me. I trust yoah judgeme- well, nevah mind. Jus'-" I snapped my mouth shut as one of my Junior Newies, Patch, came bursting in through the door, barreling past Luce and Skulls screaming, "Spot, Spot, Spot!" at the top of his lungs.

"Oi, kid. Calm down." I crouched down so that the two of us were eye-level, my hands placed firmly on his shoulders. "Wat's da problem?"

The tiny Newsie took in deep gulps of air, before finally replying.

"L-Luce an' Sk-Skulls… dey flipped a kid ovah da Brooklyn Bridge…"

I flashed a glance up at Luce and Skulls, who were regarding Patch with unidentifiable expressions. I turned back to Patch.

"How ol' was dis kid, Patch?" I said in a low voice, as gentle as possible. Hey, I tried to shelter my younger Newsies… sort of.

Patch took in another deep breath. "She was… not much youngah dan youse, Spot… She-"

"Woah, woah, woah," I interrupted, leaping to my feet to whip a glare at Luce, "She? It was a goil?"

Patch nodded his head furiously. "Yeah, it was."

"No, it wasn't." came Luce's low, monotone voice for the first time in weeks. "It was a boy. He was a scrawny thing, I admit, but a boy none the less."

Patch shook his head to counter Luce's statement. "No, Spot, it was a goil! I know it was!"

Luce turned to face Patch. "Really?" he murmured. "Did you see any hips on the kid? A slight incline in the chest?"

"'Ey, Luce," I snapped, glaring at him once again. "Do't be askin' a kid dem… weird questions."

"It ain't nuttin' I ain't seen," Skulls piped up.

"Yeah, well-" I cut off, my eyes widening. "Wait, _seen_? Woah dere, Skulls…"

"We're getting off topic." Luce hissed irritably. I nodded, rubbing my temples.

"Listen, Patch." I said, turning to face the little Newsie. "I tink dat youse is mistaken; he was fallen' off da Bridge, ahfta awl. Tings look weird when dey fawl off bridges."

"No, really, Spot-" Patch began, but a new voice interrupted him.

"Spot," Luciel's gentle voiced called from upstairs. "You need to rest, or else that cut of yours will never heal."

"I'se is comin'," I called, and dashed back up the stairs before Patch could continue on any longer.

I kicked off my shoes and tossed aside my cabbie hat, happy to finally get some rest. I leapt onto the bed, burying myself under the thin sheet. Luciel entered a moment later, a tray of water and bread gripped gently in her small fingers.

"Here you are," she smiled, kissing my lightly on the forehead, and then retreating once again. She stopped at the doorway, and looked over her shoulder, saying in a soft voice, "Get well soon, Spot."

"I will, Toots." I mumbled sleepily, and a moment later was fast asleep.

* * * * *

It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when I heard the morning wake-up bell being rung down in the main room. I groaned and rolled over, reluctantly sliding out of bed. I sloppily pulled on my shoes and pulled my suspenders over my shoulders. I stumbled downstairs, where everyone else was beginning to exit the Lodging House. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd, so that I was soon leading the Brooklynites through the streets.

The beginning of the day was a complete blur. I got my papes, sold them, had a quick scuffle with a snobbish scabber who apparently didn't know who I was, got lunch, and went back to the Distribution Center for the afternoon addition. For whatever reason, I chose to mix it up that day and chose a corner closer to the river.

Good thing, too.

Just as I was selling my last pape to a rather lovely young maiden, I happened to see something out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head curiously and saw a strange bundle floating motionlessly down the sewer system. My eyes widened when I realized what it was.

It was a boy.

I scrambled forward, falling to my knees and reaching for the limp body. I was able to fish him out, and drug him onto the street corner. He was covered in grime and muck. Almost all his hair was tucked under a cabbie cap similar to mine, and in his practically-frozen fist was clutching tightly to a large sack, with probably some held some items needed for survival. I glanced down at his other fist, and saw a small glint of gold. I slowly reached forward and pulled it out of his grasp, his fingers falling limply to the ground as soon as the necklace left his touch. I ran my calloused thumb along the pure gold key that hung from the small, thin chain. Oddly enough, it was completely free of sewer grime. With one last, long look at it, it gently placed it back in the palm of the boy.

He stirred, letting out a weak cough.

I took an inch backwards as his eyes fluttered open. His eyes, dulled with pain, met my bright, sparkling alert ones. He let out another weak cough. Suddenly, he began to struggle furiously, one hand flying to his throat and the other grabbing hold of my shirt. He wrenched me forward, and I let out a cry and pulled away. His flailing suddenly became weak, until it was no more than an involuntary twitch. He let out another, choked cough, his eyes now flaring up with fear and sharp pain.

"It's awlright, kid," I murmured, gathering his tiny, frail form up in my arms, "Youse'll be fine. Jus' you wait."

**- - -**

**And there you have it! Sorry for the wait; I tried to make this one a little longer to make up for lost time. ^__^; Anyways, Thankies for reading, and please review if you get the chance!  
**

**XOXO,**

**~ Christina 'Amaryllis' Conlon**


End file.
